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Saturday, September 28, 2013

Alex
stared out the airport windows at the late afternoon’s pounding rain. The
faltering light of the day and the roiling thunderheads echoed
their disapproval onto the runways. She glanced up at the lit board
of arrivals and departures, searching for her flight number.It did not appear anywhere. She looked
down at her wristwatch, chewing on her lower lip. She was still two hours
early.

Smart
people don’t travel in electrical storms,” she muttered as she dropped her bag
onto the empty chair in front of the glass windows beside her gate. . Clutching
the piece of paper Jay had printed out for her when he purchased her ticket on
the shop’s computer, Alex inspected the list of flight times. With the bursts
of violent electricity beyond the window, she felt imprisoned by the narrow
chair in the too cold lobby waiting for a flight she wasn’t sure would even
materialize. Alex rolled her eyes as she glanced at the pouring rain again.
More and more flights were being delayed from the storm raging outside the
graying windows through which she stared.

Having
too much time on her hands and needing a distraction, she grabbed her mother’s manila
folder, pulling it out of the bag. Alex ran a scant thumb through the thick
stack of pages, blowing out the air in her lungs.

Did she give me her whole life history?

Flipping the papers to a section in the back, she recognized a story about the
night her parents first fell in-love. She dug a red pencil from her bag before
wrapping the pages backward around the binding. It was time to slice through the type face with her bleeding marks
dripping across the page.

Entry # 54 October 25

Your
diary is the place you’re supposed to make secret confessions, right? , so here
goes. I think I fell in -love tonight. I know. I’m just as shocked about it as you are. The
truth is I am a closet romantic, despite my refusals to buy into all the mushy
stuff. Tonight, though, there was no mushy stuff and I swear to you it was more
like a single step home, than a long crashing fall.

The
trail was dark and Angel’s landing was still more than ten miles above us.
Yes, we were hiking one of the most difficult trails in the park, alone, and in
the dark. It’s a good thing there was no crashing involved.

He
had been forced to drag, more than walk with me up the narrow trail. The
sound of our heavy breathing filling the night. The steep trail was more
than I could climb in the dark. Who am I kidding, it was more than I could have
handled in full sunlight; I’m not exactly a mountain goat. My panting was only
interrupted by my apologies for my pathetic attempt at athleticism. It would
have been totally humiliating if it hadn’t been for his deep throaty chuckle
drifting from beside me as he held my hand and rubbed it briskly to fight off
the October chill. If he only knew it was that voice of his that gives me shivers.
We both knew I would not make it much farther. Thankfully he acted as if it was
his idea to stop and Sit beside the trail to wait for feeling to return to my
aching legs.

When he assured me it was not the top of the trail that had brought him on this
death trek, I should have caught on that there was a key piece of information I
was missing.

“I need to say something to you, but I’m afraid with everything you’ve been
through lately, you are not up for it."

I felt up for ‘it’ as long as he
didn’t mean we were going to race back down the trail. He had a point though,
emotionally, the last week had been rough for me and that place near my heart
that braced me against more pain pricked a warning in my mind.

“Try me.” I said, laughing away my panic. “You might be surprised what I can
handle.

” When he took my hand more firmly and cleared his throat, it was
a good thing his voice totally distracted me from my flight instincts, or else
my insecurities would have ensured that I would have missed what he was trying
to tell me.

“Well,” he said. “you know that I love you. You’re the person I would
never want to lose. We have been friends, good friends for a long time
and I never want anything to ever get in the way of that”

His
breath shuddered as he released it in a warm puff.”

“Somewhere between all the phone calls, the crazy weekends, and the bad
dinners, I think I fell in love with you.”

I didn’t know you could interrupt the space-time continuum with the
words “I fell in love with you”, but it happened at that moment. I was sure I
stopped breathing.

“No, he said the edge of scorn in his words. “There’s no think about it, I
know. I’m in love with you.”

Alex
smiled, imagining her father’s low buttery voice drifting through the
darkness. I know. She heard him
murmur. I’m in love with you.

She
closed her eyes and sighed, a crooked smile plastered across her
face.

“What are
you reading?” asked a bubble gum voice. “From the look on your face it
must be pretty good.”

Alex’s eyes flew open. She dropped both
the red pencil and her mother’s transcript onto the floor.

A wisp of a dark haired girl was stammering, as she bent over to
pick up Alex’s things from the tight weaved flooring.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. You just had this look on your
face like you were reading a love note from prince charming himself.”

Alex sat up in her chair as the girl’s face paled, the delicate features giving
away she couldn’t be more than 11 years old. Her cheeks were beginning to color as she
stood from her bent position at Alex’s feet. Smiling as if to test the
level of acceptance, the dark eyed pre-teen handed Alex’s things back.
Her chocolate colored eyes flicked a glance over her shoulder, the girl attempted another smile.

Alex’s
cheeks burned as she took the manuscript and pencil
from the girl’s shaking hands.

“Do you like fairy tales? My mom wrote this one about the night she and my
father fell in love.” Alex moved the envelope from the chair next to her,
motioning for the girl to sit down. With a quick shift of her eyes from
side to side, the pixie like girl pulled her backpack from her shoulders and
sank to the seat

“If it’s
about your parents then how is it a fairytale?”

“My Dad’s not exactly prince charming,” Alex whispered from the side of her
mouth. “But he’s the closest thing I know.

She held out her hand to ease the young girl’s awkwardness.

“I’m Alexandra, but you can call me Alex.”

The girl looked around once more, licking her lips before taking Alex’s hand
and then whispering. “I’m Chantelle, but if my dad comes back we don’t
know each other.”

Alex nodded one brief tilt of her head.

“Not supposed to talk to strangers huh??”

“I’m not supposed to talk, at all. My dad says I talk too much.”

Alex bit down on her bottom lip before going on.

“Is he nearby or can we talk for a minute.

“He’s playing a slot machine somewhere around here, but not nearby.” Chantelle
said glancing up and down the hall. My mom is picking me up to go back to
Fresno. I spent Christmas break with him and New Year’s but now I can
finally go home. Is that where you’re going. Home to see your dad?”

Alex stifled a laugh as the teenaged girls sparkling eyes shone out across the
emptying waiting area.
Aflutter bucked in Alex’s stomach again as she smiled out into the storm.

“The real thing” she said with a shudder, “The real thing.”

A stream of passenger’s began exiting the gang way at their left. Chantelle
peeked around Alex at the line.

“Is he a lot like your dad?”

What?” Who?”

Chantelle sat back down and began picking at the sipper on her back
pack. “Your Boyfriend. Does he remind you
of your Dad?” Alex wrinkled her nose, not quite understanding the young girl’s
question. “My mom always warns me that girls fall for guys that remind them of
their “Father. She says that’s how she and my dad ended up
together or not together anymore I guess, and If I’m not careful, I’ll end up
with some loser who ignores me like my dad does. She says it’s the curse
of being a daughter.”

Alex let her expression dissolve from thoughtful to concerned. She watched the bitterness in Chantelle’s
words echo back from her dark eyes.

“I hope your boyfriend reminds you of your dad, though.” Chentelle
sighed, “If he does than you’ll end up as happy as your mom is, right?”

Alex opened her mouth to try to explain the complexities of relationships, but
Chantelle jumped to her feet and ran to throw her arms around a dark haired
woman exiting the walkway.

The woman was taller with the marks of time pacing relentless across her
pixie features, but she was a near copy of the smaller girl.
Chantelle pulled her mother to her chair next to Alex while the woman’s tired
eyes scanned the waiting area.With a
deep frown pinching her forehead into puckered lines, the woman scowled.

“Did your Dad just leave you here alone?”

“No,” Chantelle sighed, pointing down the loud wide corridor behind Alex. “He’s
on a slot machine down the hallway.”

Chantelle’s voice was apologetic, her smile broken until the corners of
her cherry lips turned down. the older woman’s dark eyes found a sandy
haired man loudly flirting with a stewardess attempting to avoid his grabbing
hands. Oblivious to their presence, his crude comments dripped, along with the
unlit cigarette, from his yellowing lips.

Alex turned her head toward the awkward scene, just in time to see him, leer
darkly as the uniformed woman walked away brushing her hands against her
flight uniform. As if the action could rid her of debris from the encounter.

“Well,” Chantelle’s mother huffed pulling her purse tightly against her
shoulder, “We better go let him know that I’m here now, so he can get back to
his…life.”

Alex raised one hand from her lap offering a quick smile. The pretty young girl
blushed as she twitched a wave in Alex’s direction before she and her mother
disappeared into the throng of passengers.

She shook
her head at the two vanishing figures, hoping for either one of them to get
the chance at ‘the real thing. Deep in her heart she feared that neither would
ever break free from that curse.

The tender warmth of her father’s icy eyes flashed across her mind with the
thought. She picked up the manuscript again.

I found myself speechless,”
her mother’s words went on as Alex settled down to read again.

“I’m
never speechless. I can talk about anything with anyone. What is wrong with me?
A gorgeous man tells me he’s in love with me? And I say…nothing? I
just stared into the darkness trying to find words for what was happening
inside of me. The ringing of bells, choirs of hallelujah, spark of fire, and
all the traditional background emotions that are supposed to show up when the
right man falls in love with you abandoned me. I’m sure I had a thousand really moving
speeches or romantic responses I should have been able to think of, but my
brain totally bailed. I waited for the inspiration to come. Think…think of
something…hurry before he; before he what? Discovers you’re secretly mute and
changes his mind?

While I tried to
compel my hapless vocabulary to cooperate with my tongue, I could only think of
one thing.Of course, we should always
be together. I felt as if he was just explaining to me how the sun was
coming up in the morning. What do you say to that?

He is usually Okay
with silence, but I’m pretty sure he prefers the comfortable kind, so he stood
up and tried to make it seem as if we were just having a casual, middle of the
night, conversation about politics or the weather.

He must have gotten tired of my impersonation
of a mime having a stroke, because he pulled me to my feet beside him.

“I think we had better get out of here, before it gets too dark.”

He
mumbled he excuse halfheartedly, I wasn’t too brain dead to notice we had
passed ‘too dark’ hours ago. We headed back down the trail, my hand still in
his as he led the way.

There should have
been an awkward silence following our return hike that night, but even in the
tortured wake of bare emotion, we had no problem talking…but for the life of me
I can’t remember a single thing we talked about. My mind was still racing. I
have this really bad habit of picking things apart and analyzing them to death,
so the whole time we were talking I was recalling past conversations, moments
that now had new meaning, and the truth of my own feelings, pushing past our
prattle.

I liked it, this feeling all warm and snugly, wrapped in six months worth of memories. While he hiked and I basked
in my surrender I suddenly remembered a conversation we were having earlier on
the trail. . We had talked about the best kisses we’d had and he had described
to me his. Panic flooded all those happy feelings, and now I stopped on the
steep down grade pulling him up sharply.

“What?” he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried,” I said.

“What are you worried about?” he asked, pulling away from me and turning back
down the trail.

“What if I’m not as good of a kisser as Nora?”

“He gave me one of his crooked grins while brushing a lock of hair out of my
eyes. I guess we’ll just have to practice.”

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

I am a big fan of historical fiction. The work of Donna McDine piqued my interest because in her Middle Grade story "Powder Monkey" she gives us a look into a little known piece of history surrounding the forced servitude of young men aboard British Naval vessels.
It is obvious from her ability to give detailed accounts of the misery and trauma involved with this period of time, McDine is a talented writer. Ms. McDine shows the experiences of her characters in great detail while staying historically accurate.
She picks pivotal moments in these young boys lives, letting us peer into the horror of their experiences.
This historical period is fascinating to me and I would like to see more from McDine about the trials of Tommy, her main character.

Forced into a life at sea by
the Royal Navy Press Gangs, 12-year-old Tommy Kitt finds himself in a floating
sea of misery. Poor living conditions and beatings occur daily. Despite his
small size, Tommy must summon the courage and physical ability to prevail in a
situation he cannot escape.

You can find the spell bounding ride of
stories by award-winning children’s author,
Donna McDine through her publisher-Guardian Angel publishing